Sovereign's Vow
Author: Sunless Rain
Chapter 7 – Done with Probing
One day had passed since their arrival.
They had learned that they could comprehend the language of this world—and even speak it—as if it had always belonged to them.
And that the strata they now occupied was known as the Aberion Depths
From there, their reach expanded.
Within that time, they had thoroughly surveyed everything within a hundred-kilometer radius, including the regions inhabited by the merfolk. The search did not end there—it pushed beyond that range, extending further into the vast unknown, probing deeper into waters that had yet to be mapped.
Unlike on land, where visible borders defined territory, the sea divided itself through depth, temperature, and shifting currents. A single reef could belong to one species, while another claimed the darker depths beneath it, and the currents above served as hunting paths for unseen predators. It was a layered world—complex, overlapping, and constantly in motion.
Mavis, acting under BURNING_ONES' command, extended her reconnaissance beyond the ocean, shifting her focus toward the distant landmasses they had observed. Meanwhile, Neptuneus maintained constant surveillance over the surrounding waters. Despite their efforts, the vastness of the ocean proved difficult to monitor. Entire regions remained beyond their reach, their environments so hostile that even high-level summons would struggle to navigate them.
Adding to the uncertainty, new types of merfolk were discovered. Most belonged to small, reclusive tribes that rarely ventured beyond their territories. Deeper still, there were rumors of far more powerful entities dwelling in the abyss—beings that did not reveal themselves, yet were acknowledged by all who lived in the depths.
Closer to the fortress, however, the situation was far more active.
The merfolk previously encountered continued to observe from a distance, lingering like silent watchers beneath the waves. Among them, the Oculith were the most numerous and the most curious. They approached the unseen barrier without fear, extending their hands to touch the invisible walls, studying the illusion magic as though examining the remnants of an ancient civilization.
Not long after, a pod of the nomadic Thalorim arrived. Their presence was not driven by curiosity alone, but by information carried through the currents—whispers and fragmented reports that had spread across the sea. Unlike the Oculith, they kept their distance, watching cautiously, prepared to retreat if necessary.
Further still, Neptuneus uncovered something far more significant. In the far western seas, there existed a structured civilization known as the Aquarians. Unlike the scattered tribes, this suggested organization, hierarchy—something far closer to a true nation.
BURNING_ONES stood in silence as the gathered information settled into place.
Confidence did not come from arrogance, but from understanding. And with that understanding came a decision.
It was time to act.
Not as invaders, nor as guests, but as a force that this world would be forced to acknowledge.
A question lingered briefly in his mind—what identity should the Paragons assume in this new world? Benevolent rulers who imposed order, or absolute tyrants who ruled through fear?
In the end, he dismissed the question.
They would not choose between mercy and cruelty. They would define both.
In Eryndor, they had stood as the apex, unquestioned and absolute. There had been no need to justify their existence. But this world was different. Here, power would not simply be accepted—it would be interpreted, feared, worshipped, or resisted.
And that was where their identity would be forged.
The Paragons would not seek recognition.
They would become it.
To some, they would appear as protectors, bringing stability to the chaos of the depths. To others, they would be tyrants, demanding submission without compromise. And to those who resisted, they would become something far more absolute—a force that did not ask for its place, but took it.
BURNING_ONES made his choice.
Not of mercy, nor of cruelty.
But of purpose.
He turned his gaze toward the guardians gathered before the throne.
"Let us begin," he said calmly, his voice carrying an unshakable authority. "We will start by subjugating the merfolk within our vicinity. From there… we will expand."
His eyes settled on Neptuneus.
"I entrust you with this task.
Then, shifting his attention slightly, he added, "Kael, assist Neptuneus and enforce an information lockdown. No knowledge of our operations must leave these waters."
Finally, his gaze swept across the remaining guardians.
"The rest of you will provide support. Ensure his success."
There was no hesitation.
One by one, the guardians bowed their heads—not in reverence, but in absolute obedience.
The will of BURNING_ONES had been set into motion.
...
A deep rumble spread through the ocean as the massive doors of the invisible fortress opened.
The sound reverberated through the water, heavy and unnatural, as if the sea itself had acknowledged the shift.
Scouts stationed nearby reacted immediately. Without hesitation, they fled, cutting through the currents at full speed as they relayed the news through every means available. The message spread rapidly across the depths.
The fortress had opened.
The presence had revealed itself.
The waters began to stir as word traveled from tribe to tribe. Curiosity drew some closer, while fear urged others to prepare for conflict. But none ignored it.
And then—
They saw him.
The entity that had summoned the towering tentacles.
Unmoving. Unyielding.
Watching.
Neptuneus drifted forward, alone, while behind him, his subordinates Kraken Gamay a giant Nautilus and Walo Walo a giant sea serpent, remained like silent titans, their presence looming even without movement.
His gaze settled on the remaining scouts, who could do nothing but stare.
Across the ocean, messengers arrived in haste.
A Brathen scout burst into his tribe's stronghold, ignoring the startled guards as he rushed forward.
"Chief—!"
The leader turned sharply. "What is it?"
The scout struggled to steady his breath. "He has appeared again…"
A brief pause.
"…the one from before."
The chief's expression hardened instantly.
Similar scenes unfolded across every tribe in the region. Leaders were summoned, elders gathered, and warriors prepared. Each tribe understood that this was not a minor disturbance—it was something that demanded their full attention.
Not long after, the tribes assembled.
But their numbers were fewer than before.
Only the most important among them had come—chiefs, elders, and their strongest warriors—gathering in haste, leaving many of their kin behind. It was not a full assembly, but a deliberate gathering of those who mattered most.
Chiefs, elders, and their strongest warriors stood before the fortress, gathered on the same side yet divided in spirit. Though they stood together, there was no unity among them—only a shared awareness of the unknown.
Neptuneus observed them in silence.
Not with anger. Not with contempt.But with evaluation.
"You gathered," he said.
His voice carried through the water, calm and controlled. At first, it seemed ordinary, but it did not fade. It lingered, settling into the depths as if the ocean itself held onto his words.
"Good. Then you understand what is at stake."
He paused briefly before continuing.
"I will not ask again."
The meaning was clear.
This was not a negotiation.
This was a test.
Silence followed before Neptuneus spoke once more.
"Pledge your allegiance to the Paragons."
His gaze swept across the assembled tribes, steady and absolute.
"Serve, and you will exist under our order. Your kind will rise—beyond survival, beyond struggle—into a prosperity you have never known, reaching heights you could not even dream of."
A brief pause followed, heavy as the abyss.
"Resist… and you will be treated as opposition."
His tone did not rise, yet the weight of his words pressed down on them all.
Still, no one knelt.
The merfolk stood firm.
They were warriors, shaped by endless conflict and hardened by survival. Their bodies bore the marks of countless battles fought over territory, resources, and dominance. Even now, facing something beyond their understanding, they refused to yield.
Because they were not alone.
Dozens of tribes had gathered, their combined strength forming a force unlike anything seen before in the region.
And among them stood the Thalorim—few in number, yet unmatched in individual strength. Their presence alone bolstered the confidence of the others..
Though they stood defiant, there was a quiet undercurrent of confusion among them. The name Paragons meant nothing in these waters—no legend, no warning, no history to anchor it. Only an unknown force demanding submission.
A Coralyth chief stepped forward, his voice steady despite the pressure. As he spoke, the bioluminescent spines along his form slowly flared to life, their glow cutting through the water like a warning.
"We have faced storms. We know the cost of standing our ground."
A Brathen chief raised his weapon, his body tensing as a battle state took hold—movements sharpening, breath steadying, every muscle primed as if caught in the edge of a controlled frenzy. "And we do not break."
A Velithar chief spoke, his voice quiet and precise, as faint arcs of electricity flickered along his form. "And we endure—no matter how the currents turn."
A Thalorim chief spoke for the first time, colder than the rest, his presence subtly expanding, the sheer pressure of his form growing heavier in the water. "You ask for allegiance as if it is given."
From the Skelmar chief, low and edged with a cutting calm, his scales thickening and hardening into a dense, layered armor:"You will have to earn it through our blades… before you take anything from us."
The Kravex chief spoke last, his tone calm but unwavering. His massive shell shifted as powerful, glowing claws emerged, radiating strength with every slow movement."If you expect us to kneel… then show us something worth kneeling for."
Only the Oculith remained apart from the gathering.
They stayed at a distance, observing rather than participating. Their intentions had been clear from the beginning—they did not resist, nor did they question.
They understood.
Neptuneus smiled faintly.
Not in mockery, but in quiet acknowledgment.
"Very well," he said.
He paused briefly before adding, "But not yet."
Confusion spread among the gathered tribes. Some tensed, expecting an immediate clash, while others felt a fleeting sense of relief.
It did not last.
"Your numbers," Neptuneus continued, his gaze sweeping across them, "are not enough."
There was no arrogance in his tone.
Only certainty.
And that certainty ignited them.
Murmurs turned into agitation, then into anger. Several merfolk instinctively activated their abilities, their power flaring in response to the perceived insult.
"Arrogance…" a Skelmar warrior muttered, his expression hardening.
"I'll teach you what it means to look down on us."
With a sudden burst of speed, he charged forward.
"Attack!"
The water split as he and hundreds of warriors from different tribes surged toward Neptuneus.
Neptuneus did not move.
Then—
with a simple flick of his finger—
The ocean responded.
A sudden, overwhelming force erupted outward.
The shockwave struck without warning.
Warriors were thrown violently off course, their bodies hurled through the water as if struck by an invisible wall. Some crashed into the seafloor, while others were sent spiraling through the currents, completely losing control.
Blood splattered into the surrounding waters—thin streams at first, then blooming clouds of red that spread and dissolved into the deep.
The charge collapsed instantly.
Only the Oculith, who had remained distant, were untouched.
Silence fell over the battlefield.
Neptuneus remained where he was.
Unmoved.
Untouched.
Unchallenged.
Yet he did not finish them.
This was not meant to end in a single moment.
"They will learn," Neptuneus said quietly.
"Not through annihilation… but through struggle."
Behind him, his subordinates stirred, their presence growing heavier.
This would not be a massacre.
It would be a lesson.
And the merfolk would either rise under it—
or be broken by it.
Far behind the gathering, the Oculiths finally moved.
They approach slowly, bearing offerings—ancient relics, treasures, and artifacts dredged from the deepest reaches of the sea.
They bowed their heads.
Eyes full of reverence
They have already chosen.
They draw closer to Neptuneus, heads lowered, presenting their treasures in silent reverence.
Neptuneus was pleased by their actions.
From the information gathered, this outcome was expected. Their kind is predictable—by nature, by intellect.
As Lord BURNING_ONES once described them: "Nerds."
A peculiar term, Neptuneus, had often heard among the Paragons.
Beings of exceptional intellect, yet ones who did not conform to the social norms of the world.
He understood it well.
Most of his masters would fit that description—except for the ladies, who would undoubtedly take offense at such a label… and be very vocal about it.
The Paragons often jest among themselves, calling each other out from time to time—especially Lord Plaridel (Eldritch Octopus), who is said to be the nerdiest of them all.
He gave a quiet order to Kraken gamay (Nautilus) to receive the gifts with its multiple tentacles
But as an Oculith stepped forward to speak with Neptuneus—
He raised a hand.
"You will wait," he said calmly. "Until the war is over. It will not take long."
He knew the value of his master's time.
And more importantly—
He intended to present them both, together, before his Lord.
The Oculith heeded his word and slowly retreated into the depths